


Ways Henriksen Doesn't Catch the Winchesters

by writinginthesecrettrees



Series: Currently Thinking of Henriksen [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU of an AU, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writinginthesecrettrees/pseuds/writinginthesecrettrees
Summary: This is not part of the Currently Thinking of Henriksen canon. This is me writing fanfic of my fanfic, random imaginings in the universe.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Currently Thinking of Henriksen [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718425
Comments: 14
Kudos: 71





	1. Tax Evasion

Dean and Sam are cuffed and shackled, because the IRS is not taking any chances with these guys. And arguing over whose fault it is that their tax returns weren’t filed properly.

Dean’s all “dammit Sammy, I thought you took care of that!” 

And Sam’s all “I did! I filled out the forms, figured out how to deduct ‘murder tools’ without calling it ‘murder tools,’ got it all figured out so we didn’t even pay a penny. ALL you had to do was mail the damn returns, but you got all sidetracked.” 

“Well, I couldn’t mail them after they got all blood soaked. And that is clearly YOUR fault.”

“I wasn’t even there!!!”

“If you weren’t so hot, that damn mailman wouldn’t have flirted with you when we went to get stamps. And if he hadn’t flirted with you, I wouldn’t have had to kill him. Ergo: YOUR fault.” 

(Meanwhile, the IRS agent in charge of them is frantically calling Henriksen, begging him to hurry up and take these freaks off the IRS’s hands)


	2. Parking in a Red Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not canon to the Currently Thinking of Henriksen universe. This is me writing fanfic of my fanfic.

The first thing Henriksen thinks is that that beast of a car just looks wrong with a bright yellow boot on the tire. The second thing he thinks is that the parking enforcement officer was incredibly lucky Dean doesn’t know who he is, because Dean’s glaring out of the back of a police car at any and everyone around.

Sam’s next to him, and Henriksen would demand they be separated except Sam’s glare is reserved for Dean. Henriksen walks over to the car, catches the thread of Sam’s rant at Dean.

“... but noooooooo, rules don’t apply to Dean fucking Winchester,” Sam says, then pitches his voice into a mockery of Dean’s low growl. “‘I’ll park wherever I want to, what the fuck are they gonna do about it,’ you said. ‘We can get around a few parking tickets,’ you said. Well how are we gonna get around this, Dean?”

“We’re serial killers, Sammy! It doesn’t make sense to follow stupid parking laws when we’re killing people!”

“It makes more sense, you idiot! Don’t park in a red zone when you’re top of the FBI Most Wanted list, don’t run red lights when you have a body in the trunk, don’t speed when you’re leaving the scene of a murder! How do you not get this?”

“Gee, I must have missed that day in serial killer school. So glad you’re such a straight A teacher’s pet.”

Henriksen backs away from the car, mouth hanging open. _These_ were the clever and almost supernaturally skilled killers he’d been hunting for years?


	3. Getting Distracted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not canon to the Currently Thinking of Henriksen universe. This is me writing fanfic of my fanfic.

The sheriff can’t stop laughing. He draws in a gasping breath, looks at Henriksen’s face, and cracks up again. Henriksen shakes his head and turns towards a deputy.

She, at least, can stop giggling long enough to tell the story.

Hours earlier, a naked woman with her hands bound had run out into the middle of a highway, catching the attention of a passing trucker. The trucker radioed for help and before she was whisked away to a hospital, the woman told highway patrol about meeting a handsome stranger in a bar, leaving with him, someone in the backseat of his car grabbing her, then coming to in a shack and running away while her abductors were otherwise occupied.

“Otherwise occupied?” Henriksen asks, knows the answer already.

“Fucking,” the deputy confirms. “They were fucking when we got there. Didn’t even know she’d escaped. Are... are they really brothers?”

She dissolves into giggles when Henriksen nods before he walks towards the holding cells.

He stops in the doorway, out of sight of the two men in adjoining cells.

“I’m just saying, if you had tied her up properly we wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m just saying, I thought she was out.”

“She was! But people wake up, Dean, we’ve done this often enough you should know that. Tie the feet so they can’t run, it’s not rocket science.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t shoved your hands down my pants halfway through I would have.”

“Maybe if you had used your big brain, you could have taken an extra minute before bending me over.”

“Like you weren’t begging for it.”

“Like I’m not always.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

He can’t face this right now. Henriksen spins on heel and walks out of the building, across the street to the bar that is just opening for business. Let the brotherfuckers have a few hours to snipe at each other through the bars, he’s getting drunk.


End file.
